He who was born different
by Noctis Spectralis
Summary: During an invasion of the southern lands (Mediterranean), Ivar finds a baby crying in its condemned-to-death mother's arms. The Boneless decides to take the child with him back to Kattegat. It takes a Viking King to raise an Olympian God. *historically inaccurate* *IN PROGRESS*


**CHAPTER 1: Found**

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It was scorching hot. The sun was burning bright right above their heads. The heat was unbearable. Ivar wiped his forehead. He was in an inhospitable terrain. The land of Greek God Hephaestus, the god of fire and forge.

The battle was intense. Men from both sides were dying. Vikings and Greeks were fighting, both ready to sacrifice their lives for their lands and their Gods. No one knew the outcome of that great battle…

"FRAAAAM!" Ivar commanded his men from his chariot. He could see death he could smell death. It was everywhere. He couldn't do anything but to press forward. "Valhalla awaits us, my brothers! FRAM!" he raised his axe menacingly. His deep blue eyes were scanning the battlefield for a worthy opponent. He could see none. His men could handle the rest, there would be no problem. He whipped his white horse's croup, ordering it to gallop towards the center of the city, leaving the battlefield.

In the center of the Greek city of Laurium, the city of silver mines, Ivar found only dead bodies, burnt buildings and dust. The once great and important Athenian suburb, with the exotic palm trees and impressive buildings, was now only a ghost of its former glory. The Viking could only see flames and despair. He could hear the agonizing screams of men, women and children that were burning alive.

"DON'T KILL US! PLEASE! WE BEG YOU!" _you came here to deliver death…_ "WE HAVE FAMILIES! WE HAVE CHILDREN! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" _you do not care… you are here to finish what you started…_ "PLEASE! SPARE OUR LIVES! WE DO NOT WANT TO DIE!" _you can not sympathize with them… they are lowlife pests… they are inferior… _

"**WE DON'T WANT TO DIE!"**

_you were born different, you were born superior, you were born a god. _

_**Kill them all.**_

Ivar couldn't think straight. He was full of hatred and anger. Those two elements made Ivar who he was. He was wrath. He was fire. He was death… He had to finish this. He had to destroy the city, in order to get hold of the land's mineral resources. He had to kill. He _wanted _to kill.

Ivar's horse galloped over thousands of dead bodies, while his axe killed a few more. He made his way into a house whose door had been destroyed. He dismounted and crawled through the burning ruins trying to find loots like silver, weapons, or, even better, hostages…

The flames were high up in the sky and they were burning ever so brightly. The temperature in the room was steadily increasing, but Ivar wasn't one who would quit easily. He kept on searching… Suddenly, a burning wooden plank fell from the ceiling and in front of the door, blocking Ivar's only exit. The young Viking panicked, but kept on searching for the things he needed…

"**WATCH OUT!"**

A pair of hands pushed him towards the wall. It took Ivar a few seconds to recover. He tried to turn around, still a little dizzy and shocked.

Another wooden plank had fell from the ceiling and it was burning bright. A woman's screams woke Ivar's mind up. He shook his head, fixing his eyes on the figure that was laying under the burning plank. He crawled with his immensely powerful arms towards the person, possibly a woman.

With only one move, Ivar sent the plank flying to the other side of the room. Under the plank there was a woman. The Viking came closer to her and studied her face. She was not dead or unconscious. He caressed her cheek and brushed her dark hair away from her green eyes. There was a thin line of blood streaming down to her chin and neck. She breathed heavily and fixed her scared but tender eyes on Ivar.

Ivar was caught off guard. He didn't know what to say or do. He was also in shock and… a bit scared. "Wh- what. What is it?" his Nordic accent made his voice sound more intimidating than he was hoping for. The young woman tried to raise her arm. Her warm palm cupped the male Viking's cheek, touching his rough and scarred skin.

"S-save h-him" she tried. Ivar's royal blue eyes were wide open and fixed upon the woman's face. He couldn't understand. He was there to take the life, not to save it. Without a second thought, he cupped her trembling hand with his own. His eyes were half closed, fixed on the woman's green ones for an answer. "Who is _him_?" he curiously asked.

Suddenly, a baby's cry could be heard loud and clear through the rooms of the house. The woman tried to lift her head, looking towards the back room of the house, where the cry was coming from. Then she turned her face towards Ivar, while tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Save my son… p-please" she was so weak. "I beg of you. Y-you have to s-save him…" Ivar's eyes became hard and cold once again. A dark grin worked its way on his face. "No, woman. Your precious son is nothing but a small, weak, _useless_ child. I'm afraid, he has to die like you".

The young woman used all of her power to cup Ivar's cheeks with both of her hands and lock her eyes with his blue ones. "NO! My son is different. You have to save him. Please… Take him with you… let him live…" _different_… Ivar laughed. "Different means isolation and loneliness. I've had my share, woman. I know what _different_ means" he was looking at her, smiling maliciously.

Wooden planks and bricks were falling from the burning ceiling, breaking furniture and objects. Ivar was getting dizzy from the heat. The baby was crying at the back of the house.

"Please, my Lord… Save my child… _**Save Phoebus…**_"

The young woman let her last breath escape her lips. She closed her tender eyes while her now cold hands fell on the ground.

"Phoebus…" Ivar tried the name on his tongue. He turned his eyes towards the other room's door and moved quickly. He crawled fast, avoiding the flames and the burning objects around him. He broke the door with his iron axe.

Miraculously, the flames hadn't touched that room. In the center of it, there was a small, wooden crib. Ivar exhaled nervously and approached. His arms grabbed the two sides of the crib and he brought himself closer to it.

He saw a tiny baby. Probably newborn, wrapped in a brown blanket. Sensing Ivar's presence, the baby stopped his crying. Ivar wasn't sure if the baby was afraid of him or feeling safe. He brought his large, rough-skinned hand to baby's blanket and uncovered his head.

The baby boy had auburn locks and soft, rosy cheeks. Ivar caressed his small head, unconsciously. "What makes _you_ different, huh?" he asked in a kind of soft tone. Phoebus opened his eyes and fixed his innocent gaze on the older male.

His right eye was light green, like his mother's. His left eye, though… Ivar brought his hand on the baby's eyebrow and caressed all the way down his cheek, following a special mark… "What happened to you…" he asked softly but in a curious manner.

Phoebus left eye was _blind_ and marked forever with a lightning-like scar over his eyelid.

Ivar tried to take the baby in his arms and crawl out at the same time. Phoebus woke up in Ivar's arms and started cooing without crying. Ivar wasn't still sure if he was going to save the kid or he was going to kill it. After all, he was a bellicose and bloodthirsty man. However, he was a little bit curious about the kid's potential.

He fixed his deep blue eyes on Phoebus green and blind one, smiling sardonically.

"What in Odin's name are you, little creature… Let's find out"

He crawled his way out of the burning building and towards his ships.

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END OF CHAPTER ONE.

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THANK YOU VERY MUCH!


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